


My Heart Burns

by Miss_Shiva_Adler



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Circle Days, Come Swallowing, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub Undertones, Domination & submission, Drunk Sex, Drunk confessions, Emotional Manipulation, Eros AU, Extremism, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, In Vino Veritas, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Parabatai Feels, Sex Magic, Unprotected Sex, anti-family, dubcon, mention of blood., mutated parabatai bond, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Shiva_Adler/pseuds/Miss_Shiva_Adler
Summary: Some people celebrated the day they were turned, owned the day where their lives were turned up side down. He didn’t. He never would.Shadowhunters Bingo 2019-2020Square : Drunk ConfessionsHunter’s Moon Trope Event 2020In Vino Veritas, Dubcon, Sex Magic, Soulbond, Dark FicBanned Together Bingo 2020Square : Anti-family
Relationships: Luke Garroway/Valentine Morgenstern
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020, DL;DR: Shadowhunters Fic, SHBingo, Trope Celebration Event





	My Heart Burns

He knocked back another drink, one after the other. He didn't care about Maia's concerned look. Some people celebrated the day they were turned, owned the day where their lives were turned upside down. He didn't. He never would. It hurt just as much as the first time; betrayal would always taste sour and his heart would keep on bleeding, probably until the day he died. His mind would keep on wallowing in what happened.

He knocked back the 7th shot of the evening, still wondering if there had ever been a way out. Years after, he still wished things had gone differently. Still yearned for it. Still hoped it all had been a bad dream.

He took another shot, hoping that for once he wouldn't wake up screaming _his_ name.

* * *

There is a strange excitement twisting his stomach into knots. There isn't a better day, a better moment, a better outcome for a mission such as this one. The pieces of tonight's puzzle are falling into place. He knows the Angel must have been smiling upon him, finally a blessing worthy of his work.

"Here, take another one," he says, putting on a bright smile. Moving a little unstable, he leans in. "It's okay, we deserve to celebrate." He whispers and he can see Lucian's eyes light up. It is part of the game, the plan. There is another push as he lays down his hand on his parabatai's waist. It's just a slight brush, but one that would give a lasting impression. He can see, the tension, the drive, the bliss it brings right as his nails graze on the skin.

He knows he can touch Lucian this way out in the open, because the others have no clue. There is no other parabatai pair in this soon-to-be Köln Institute. The chances of them even knowing how parabatai are supposed to act around each other are nonexistent. They are parabatai, it is why they were asked. Because they were the only pair that weren't on active field duty when they were summoned, he had made sure of that. He and Lucian are the best. And it fits the plan. None of them know how parabatai are supposed to behave or even how they are supposed to fight, because they don't understand. None of them would ever understand. To have someone sharing your soul, and hating that person with every fiber of your being. They live with their eyes closed and in blissful ignorance.

His touches, his caresses, his smiles, it is subtle enough to alarm no one, but it is meaningful enough to shake Lucian to his core. Valentine will break him. Tonight and later tomorrow. Once Lucian falls into his trap. Once Valentine rectifies the one true mistake in his life. Once there is finally an end to his suffering. It is the only way forward if he is to complete the will of the Angel.

"Val…" there is a shiver in Lucian's voice, and Valentine sways his hips to the rhythm of the music as he helps his parabatai down another drink. But not to the last drop, no, the last drop is his, his alone, a metaphor of being the last one standing once this is all over. Killing your best friend isn't an easy thing to do.

He sees Lucian's gaze flick up to his lips as he licks them before downing the rest of their shared glass.

"Yeah ?" They speak English, the mission is over, there is no need for the 'speaking in tongues' rune anymore. He prefers it this way. Because this is between him and his parabatai. Lucian waits, probably looking for his words. And Valentine decides it the right time to nudge even more. He puts the glass down. His hand grazes is parabatai's waist again. He pretends to sway again. That he is just as inebriated.

It's a lie, and Lucian bites into his bait. Because he stares, lets himself linger for too long. Valentine holds onto his parabatai's waist for support. He looks up from beneath his eyelashes, giving Lucian a lopsided grin. The effect is immediate. Lucian becomes tense, caught between the instinct to lean in or to flee. His control over their bond is still very much in place. Valentine feels nothing yet, so he pushes further as he moves to whispers in Lucian's ear.

"Hey, what's wrong ?" There is a full body shiver and Valentine keeps in a smile. Lucian pushes against him in return. He regrets needing to put space between them, to push his parabatai away. The echo of his beating heart isn't as steady as it has been.

"I've gotta go," it's mumbled, not as slurred as Valentine expected it to be. He will have to work harder. His thoughts are confirmed as Lucian bolts.

He doesn't think about the fact that Valentine still has his stele. Because that's how they work. Lucian has the blades and Valentine has the steles. But Lucian probably doesn't mind being drunk. He probably relishes in the stupor of it. The sea of bodies parts and Valentine needs to gesture that everything is alright and that he doesn't need back up from the other shadowhunters in this club. The cool air hits him, yet the sweat and warmth of dancing bodies still lingers on his skin as he runs after Lucian.

There aren't a lot of mundanes out at this time of night, which yet again goes well in Valentine's plans. The fewer witnesses there are, the less people he will need to kill.

He catches Lucian by the arm once they are a bit further outside. He feels Lucian's steady mental control, it is well set in place, strong, steadfast. Valentine forgets for a split second to play his role. The thrum of their bond is quiet. Lucian is closing himself off.

"Lucian, tell me what's wrong," he asks as his parabatai breaks free from his grasp to take a few more steps forward, away from Valentine. There is tension between them. A lot of it, it strains against their bond. Whatever Lucian is thinking, it is creating a wedge between them. Valentine will never get used to the pain it brings up. His first instinct is to fight it, to go toward Lucian, to soothe whatever he is feeling. But he steels himself, ready to play the game again. Ready to work toward ending it all.

"I'm your parabatai, you shouldn't be hiding things from me." He bites, there is more truth to his words than he would like. He is genuine and hates it. But he hates Lucian and their bond more; the liability of it, the fact that Valentine can't… can't take care of it himself. That he needs to have someone else do the job.

He hates the fact he can't kill his own parabatai. Any Nephilim and shadowhunter deserves a better death than the one he has planned.

He is dragged back into the moment when Lucian turns to him. There is so much sadness on his face and there is a pang of regret in Valentine's heart. It's fleeting. And the bond strains; like it has so many times these past days and months. "I don't think…" The sigh on Lucian's lips is hard. "It's a bad idea, Val." He tilts his head, doesn't cross his arms, doesn't protect himself. He lets Valentine in. It almost makes him sick.

Valentine takes a step forward, there is a stability to Lucian's mind; he knows he'll miss it. He lets his face drop to uncertainty, it isn't pleading, not yet. Lucian doesn't move and he walks over to him. "Lay it on me," he whispers. His voice wavers with just the right tone.

Lucian is impassible, he isn't defensive; so Valentine puts pressure against him again, lets concern bleed into everything around them, through the bond. He feels Lucian's emotions stir beneath it. Valentine plays on it.

"Please, you can trust me." He lifts his hand, reaching out to Lucian, showing a vulnerability that is too sincere. "Is it about me?" He knows, but he needs to hear it from his parabatai, to hear that his plan succeeded, to hear it the exact moment that Lucian decides to damn everything to Edom.

He tries to channel his feelings of triumph to feelings of anger and disorientation, because Lucian falters. He falters as Valentine lets his hand drop, it's an act but Lucian doesn't read it that way. Their bond is needling against his chest. Valentine holds his parabatai's gaze, but the other flees his eyes. Lucian's emotions become restless, Valentine uses the silence to induce stress. The less he talks, the more an expectation gets formed. His patience is rewarded by Lucian's fidgeting. But also the slip of control from the both of them.

It bleeds out like a small gash of a cutting wound.

"Lucian, your control over the bond, I can feel everything." The fact that Valentine states out loud what they both are feeling sends everything into turmoil. It's a mix of stepping into the void and they are both falling. Valentine finds himself clutching his right pectoral and Lucian mirrors him with his left.

"I'm going to go, sober up," Lucian is left breathless, he sways on his feet and Valentine is at his side in a common heartbeat. "I'm too drunk for this." It's not the first time they've been like this, the bond tugs them toward each other to prevent them from blocking each other out. It's known. And Valentine is grateful for the injection he administered himself a few hours earlier in the club's bathroom. It keeps his mind from being fully controlled. Everything feels more dulled. But he doesn't have a grasp on his almost primal instinct to go toward his parabatai.

"Lucian, please trust me, whatever it is, we've been through worse. We're parabatai, we can do this, you and me." Valentine understands, he created the situation, he created their situation, he feels remorse on his tongue but refuses to let it cloud his judgement. He has worked too hard to give up now. He wishes there wasn't so much truth seeping out from his mouth. "Just tell me what's wrong and we can try and fix it, fix it together." He plays this as well as he can. Their blood is humming on the surface of their skins. He tries to control it, but the tugging motion between them is strong. He prefers going toward it than against it.

Lucian fights it, his willpower is stronger than their bond. So Valentine puts his hand on Lucian's arm. There is a bone-deep relief that hits them both at the same time and the truth spills from Lucian's lips like a corrupted confession that shouldn't ever be uttered.

"I have feelings for you." Valentine can't even find a reason to find it abhorrent. He knew of this, had pushed for this. He just hadn't anticipated what it would do to them. Because everything seems to even out in a way that makes everything swim around them. "And I shouldn't."

Victory has a bizarre taste in your mouth when you are the very cause of your own downfall. He doesn't feel pride, he doesn't feel elation. He sees what this is, the will of the Angel. Raziel, giving his blessing once more, granting him his means to an end, telling him he is on the right path of things.

It almost makes him feel sad.

"Lucian." his voice is soft, it takes time for him to get back on the chase. To go through with everything he has planned. He lets his hand travel over Lucian's forearm. His parabatai jolts at the touch, he trembles, breaks free from Valentine's grasp, takes a -no, two- steps backwards.

"Let's forget I even said anything," he says quickly. His tone is rigid. Valentine doesn't let go; this is the chase. This is where Lucian gets deceived. He settles in his role, his persona, in a love faced mask, a facade.

"What if I said I didn't care?" He doesn't make another motion to hold onto Lucian, but pretends to, pretends to be hesitant, wants to show an insecurity that isn't there.

"How can you say you don't care ?" Anger flares through their bond. There are a lot of emotions; confusion, pain. But the hope is the one that tastes sour. It overwhelms, and it tries to mend everything between them. Their bond latches on to it. It sticks in their throats. There is a shake to Lucian's shoulders; he is waiting for a response.

"Lucian, it's okay," he says. He takes in every single feature of his parabatai; his height, his posture, his eyes, his hands, his legs and waist, everything. The striking blow would change everything and Valentine wants to take a moment because he will mourn everything later.

There will be emptiness and void once Lucian is gone. The Angel's will is merciless. This sacrifice is for the greater good. It will be a sufferance he can endure.

"I love you too."

The sharp intake of breath is not mutual but the realization, the prickling feeling of Lucian's skin, Valentine feels it too. It's strange, it reminds him of when he finally proposed to Jocelyn.

"You…"

There are a lot of words unsaid, Lucian hesitates, furrows his brows, and things still prickle around them. Valentine drops his head, he only lets the feeling of determination bleed back and forth between them. He needs to keep his anger down. "We're not the first parabatai to have fallen in love. It's okay."

"You…"

Lucian falters and loses more and more control, emotions of bliss, thankfulness, hope and always the sour taste of hope is heavy between them. He takes a step forward, his face is closed off but their bond betrays everything he feels. He looks like he could crash down with every step he takes, his legs and arms are shaking. Valentine doesn't move, waits for his parabatai to walk up to him. To help him destroy everything they have.

"I love you…"

He repeats the words again and Lucian grabs his T-shirt as if it would prevent him from falling. He leans toward his parabatai whispering : "Shit, what are you even saying ?" His face is hard and unmoving, it's a desperate attempt at protection for the both of them.

"I love you…" This time Valentine is louder, he plays the role of the determined lover, he plays the role of a man in love. But that's it, he is playing a role… he is lying. Somewhere in his mind he suspects Lucian knows this…

"Don't be so loud."

…And yet Lucian still decides to believe him. Still decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. Lucian's lip has a tremble to it. His hands are still firmly in place, his dark eyes are shaken. He looks like he is caught between crying and bursting out in a fit of anger. Valentine is certain Lucian suspects he is lying. But Lucian Graymark is a man desperate for love, affection, and he needs a sense of belonging. Everything they have both given to each other and found in each others comfort. Lucian depends on him as much as Valentine depends on him. Their bond reminds them both of that. It is why it needs to be broken.

"Or what ? I would shout it over the institute's roof if I could. I love you." He puts his fingers on Lucian's forearms. Lucian shivers, but doesn't let it guide his mind. If anything he feels irritated. But his desperation is clear as day.

"Shhh, someone could hear." There is an attempt at anger in his voice. Valentine is about to speak again but he gets hauled by his parabatai; pushed back into the alley next to them. Away from prying eyes; he doesn't shrug Valentine off. No, Lucian's desires, wants, wishes, his hope betrays whatever he is attempting to do.

Because he still holds onto his parabatai, too intimately, too closely, too strongly, he is still fisting Valentine's T-shirt, pressing him against the wall; Probably something Lucian has dreamt of doing numerous times. But Valentine knows Lucian won't be able to walk away even if he wanted to. If anything his plans are clicking even better into place than he would ever have guessed. So he plays on it again.

"Lucian, I want to kiss you, can I kiss you?" There is a tension in Lucian's shoulders. He is blushing and Valentine presses the back his head against the wall to give them space. But he gives the contradictory pull on Lucian's forearms. He is deliberately inviting Lucian to come closer. He shifts his hips. Lucian notices, his eyes dart toward his parabatai's waist.

"Val, no, you know we shouldn't." He sounds desperate to give in. He searches in Valentine for a security he won't be able to get; he searches for their morality, the logic, the common sense. Valentine has always been the one guiding them, deciding for them. There is nothing. Only the temptation, and Lucian's eyes betray how much he wants this to escalate. It is the reason why he won't be able to walk away from his parabatai. Not unless Valentine tells him to.

"Didn't you hear me the first time? I don't care." Valentine smirks, but Lucian is trying to hold on to every shred of sanity he has. He sees, he knows, things aren't supposed to be this way, things like these don't work out. He hears the flaws in Valentine's words.

"You're so set on rules and Nephilim society, don't bullshit me, you do care." He pushes Valentine against the wall even more. Lucian is angry again, there is a better composure on the bond. Everything has to be threaded carefully or Valentine will find himself caught in the lie. So he mirrors Lucian's anger as he replies.

"You're right, I do," he spits. There is a sudden surge of blood in him and he digs his nails in Lucian's arms, who is wincing at the deployed strength. Of course he cares, if Lucian hadn't been the man he was, if Lucian had just stayed in line and followed things like they were supposed to be… the situation wouldn't have been this way. But this was just the Angel putting him on trial. To see how far Valentine was willing to go.

"I do, so much." He realizes that he is tilting on the verge of losing control of himself. He closes his eyes as he feels the black veil rise over his pupils and irises. He hasn't found a way to counteract that particular side effect of the blood yet. He usually waits until the side effect fades. "I'm tired, tired of being in pain," he says, trying to sound strained and tired. The need for seeing blood and feeling it drip from his hands is making him want to tear things to shreds.

Lucian's grip seems to relax, Valentine inhales and exhales. He tries to tame what he feels, his next dose isn't anytime soon, he doesn't understand what is happening. He continues: "My love for Jocelyn is everything." And now he understands, that the blood is counteracting the bond in ways he can't fully control. His thoughts keep on looping back through anger. The words 'My wife, my wife who you fuck behind my back.' keep on plaguing the back of his mind. It poisons everything and rattles his plans. By the Angel, Raziel is really putting his patience on trial tonight.

"But you…" His voice isn't gentle, it's harsh, and Lucian believes him, recognizes it. Reunites everything Valentine has stood for in a few sentences. "I never knew it until recently, I married Jocelyn but somehow I still could not forget about you." He exhales and calms himself down. He has needed to say her name. Jocelyn is his everything and will remain to be his everything.

When he finally opens his eyes again he can feel them going back to normal. Lucian is observing, but his defenses are down. He lets the silence linger. Lucian knows him better this way, in the intimacy of their conversations when Valentine so pretendedly drops his mask only for his parabatai. Their bodies are still very much close to each other. It's too soon to make a move yet.

"Can't I love you both ?" he finally asks, letting the ending of his sentence go higher. His hips shift again, there is a plea. It doesn't leave Lucian unaffected. "Lucian, can't I love you both ? Have you both ?" Lucian tries to look away but Valentine searches for his gaze.

"I…" Lucian locks eyes with him again and Valentine sees, feels, his parabatai's resolve crumble. Lucian always has been the weaker one between the two of them. "The Clave, Val, the Clave won't accept it."

Valentine lets his fingers finally trail on the muscular forearms as he tugs Lucian closer. There is almost no resistance. "We don't even know why, nobody knows why it's forbidden." He isn't lying. The Clave has always kept records of these things hidden from everyone. Even Valentine's regular trips to the City of Bones haven't turned up a lot of information. He is stepping in blind into this, hoping that the blood will counteract whatever will happen to them. If there even is going to be something to counteract. Because the Clave lies, always has and always will.

"And is that enough ? Enough for just sending everything to hell or Edom or any other hell dimension?" Lucian's voice is wavering, he is very tense. He doesn't even move, even when his parabatai nudges him closer, their bodies almost touching. So Valentine decides to play on loss and Lucian's weakness. The fact that they have nothing but each other. Valentine has aimed for that. Because everyone is more pliant when they are socially isolated.

"You know that the Clave lies, that the Clave protects. If it bothers you we can tell them, they'll sever our bond and we can live, with the three of us, you, me, Jocelyn. Or if you never want to see me again, I can do this too," he says.

"I can't live without you, you're my parabatai." The words are clearly out before Lucian can think. There is a panicked expression on his face. His breathing is ragged and torn and Valentine needs to keep himself from humming, pleased, at the reaction he incites. Desperate people are so easy to manipulate.

"But I don't think I can stop my feelings for you, not now, they are out in the open now. They…" He lets it linger, he tries to close off the bond to not give away his satisfaction. He lets it play off as if he reminisces on his feelings. He looks up at Lucian again.

"Let me kiss you, just once. Just once and we can walk away from this, never talk about it again, just go on about our lives." He emphasizes his words. It is impossible for Lucian to even choose the way out. Because Valentine built him this way, raised him this way to be dependent and pliable.

"If we do this, I would never be able to walk away..." The truth is bitter, it would break anyone's heart. The bond stirs between them. Lucian's hand twitches. He frowns and Valentine is certain he feels the same pull, the same feeling as his parabatai… Only more dulled. He releases Lucian's forearms to put a steady hand on his parabatai's jaw. As he has done many times to Jocelyn.

"Then don't," he whispers, his thumb caressing Lucian's cheek. He keeps his voice low, unsteady, pretended defenselessness. "Stay, Lucian, stay."

"Please."

Valentine never says please, never does, he is too proud for it. And Lucian falls, so hard, so badly. It has taken a well timed word and a bit of alcohol. Lucian is going to be the one kissing him, and he wouldn't even need to give it another nudge.

"I want you," he adds. Lucian closes his eyes and kisses the inside of his parabatai's hand. Their bond thrums, it deafens.

"I want you too."

There is the metallic taste of blood as Valentine feels both their runes light up when Lucian leans down to kiss him. It hurts more than it gives pleasure. He grabs his parabatai's shoulder as every nerve of his body is set ablaze. The blood counteracts and burns. There is a moan from his parabatai's mouth and everything gets devoured. It's a gaping abyss. Hands are in his hair and bodies are colliding. There is nothing but desperation. And Valentine feels it. The more his rune bleeds, the more he knows he isn't supposed to feel this way. Weary, angry, sick. It's all at once.

There is a roar inside of him, a grunt, a growl. He sees red. He sees black. Lucian's tongue follows him as there is a torn instinct to fuck. He laps at the open mouth. They can barely breathe and the bond struggles to even them out. But the more Valentine licks at the tongue of his soul's other half, the more everything seems to calm down, and the more he finds peace in the surge of sickness he feels.

He understands, he regrets, he continues. He is thankful for the injection in his veins that helps him to stay aware of everything. He would have lost himself if it hadn't been for this. Even if it wouldn't have been the same. He doesn't love Lucian, he hates him. He doesn't like Lucian, he despises him.

Fingers are on his hips and his whole body finds itself trapped in a shiver of cold. There is another moan. One that comes after their mouths stop being connected. It is carnal and Valentine refuses to open his eyes again. At least for now, as they catch their breaths.

"Wow."

They both say in unison, with one voice, one soul. Their hands find each other's nape of the neck. There is traction, a feeling of belonging. Valentine digs his nails into the soft skin. Lucian doesn't wince but there is pain. It's as if he is feeling the nails dig into his own flesh.

"I want you to be mine." It's his thought but it's Lucian who says it.

"I'm yours." It's Lucian's thought but it's Valentine who says it.

There is a tear, there is blood; Lucian doesn't seem to feel it, and it makes Valentine curious. Curious about what is happening. He pulls his parabatai down into another kiss. It's more sensual, softer. He takes his time and there is this zing, this power surge going through him is addictive. Its metallic taste coats his tongue. He inhales a scent he doesn't seem to recognize. It isn't sweet, it's mostly sour. It tingles in his mouth, on his skin, in his nerves and spine.

His hands are on Lucian's hips, past the line of trousers and boxers. As he grabs his parabatai's ass firmly, he kneads. There is a sigh from both of them. The bond thrums and Valentine knows his eyes are veiled again. But this time he doesn't care. He pushes his parabatai on his knees. There is a need, an urge. To consume, to shatter, to bring everything to ruin.

They both fumble on his belt. He loses himself. He drifts in and out of consciousness, he disconnects. There is an ache in his chest. His rune bleeds even more. It trickles down. Lucian's tongue is too warm, too wet, it's scorching. There is a heat to it. It hurts. It hurts unbelievably much and it arouses. He's never been this hard in his life.

His hand is in his parabatai's hair, he pushes Lucian down. His vision swims as his other fingers find his nipple. The sound that leaves his lips isn't anything remotely something he recognizes. What he thinks, what he feels… It's in a language he doesn't understand and Lucian's mouth is a sin upon his shaft, his being, his cock. His own throat constricts as he keeps Lucian there.

He breathes for the both of them. Inhales the air they need. Even when Lucian goes limp and Valentine fucks his mouth, their heartbeats are even. He doesn't know what the goal is, except there is a need to posses. To own. To have Lucian become fully and completely his. It's arousing. It's sex and he floats. He hangs on to threads of reality that don't matter.

His jaw aches. There is so much power to them, to him. There is selfishness and not an ounce of regret. He opens his eyes and sees Lucian looking at him. Heavenly fire burns from his parabatai's eyes. He is entranced. The flames are blue and gold, they are white. His burn red. It is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He cries. Tears spread over his cheeks and he doesn't seem able to stop. He inhales again. His throat quivers. Lucian feels tired, exhausted, their heartbeat is still calm, steady. He doesn't know how long Lucian's mouth rides his dick.

There is the taste of semen in his mouth. He is relaxed, there is bliss. There is so much control as well; so much strength. They still burn. The both of them. His knees are sore. He breathes. Lucian doesn't move, can't move. Valentine likes him this way, on his knees. It is his rightful place.

There is another surge of blood and he knows he needs to keep it down. He closes off their bond. Lucian's eyes still burn. Which makes them different. Because Lucian's soul claws at him and yet Valentine keeps him at bay. He looks down at his parabatai. There is an impulse of wanting to slap that face. To make him pay for his mistakes, to put him further in his place.

"Swallow," he orders. Lucian listens, Lucian obeys. Like he would, as he should and as he will.

This is who they are. There is an echo of gratitude, awe, fear. There are goosebumps all over their bodies and they hearts still beat as one. The heavenly fire goes out. Before Lucian speaks, Valentine leans in. He captures his parabtai's mouth, silencing him, only stopping when he is the one wanting it.

"I can't live without you," the adoration rolls on his skilled tongue as a rightful praise. Lucian worships him as he could, should, will. His thumb caresses his parabatai's cheek. He hums… pleased. There was only one thing left to do:

"I need you to do something for me, Lucian."

He needed his parabatai dead.

The end

**Author's Note:**

> If you're over 18 and wanna hang out with other people who love Shadowhunters (I'm there too) come check out the [Hunter's Moon](https://discord.gg/RhZPtsd)


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